Ways to Anger a Dragon
by MeeLee
Summary: [Gaiden] Goujun never realized his feelings for Tenpou Gensui until Kenren came into the picture. KenTen, onesided GouTen.


**A/N: **Well, this happens to be my first Saiyuki fic, and also my first Gaiden fic. I've always loved Kenren x Tenpou, but I was introduced to Goujun x Tenpou somewhere along the line and figured that wasn't so bad either. I'm rather rabid about my OTPs though, so I don't think I could ever split up the 58 pairing. So what you get is some unrequited Goujun x Tenpou love.

The story's a bit choppy, as I wrote it in about half an hour late last night. Make of it what you will.

Thanks for dropping by. Comments are greatly appreciated.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Saiyuki._-MeeLee_

Ways to Anger a Dragon

Goujun knew that coming to Heaven was a mistake.

He knew that he should not have left the dragons' realm in the first place. He knew that he should not have mingled with the gods. He knew that he should not allow human emotions to manipulate him. He knew that he should have more pride as a dragon, more control, more logic, more _everything._

And he knew that, despite all that, he should not have fallen in love with Tenpou Gensui.

To Goujun's credit, he didn't realize it at first. He'd always seen the soft-spoken marshal first as a loyal subordinate, and then as a valuable—though oftentimes eccentric—friend. They'd have tea together occasionally, and would often spend time talking about nothing in particular. They enjoyed each other's company, and to Goujun, Tenpou was a comrade, ally, friend, confidante. And that was just fine.

Until an unexpected turn of affairs came along. A turn of affairs in the form of one bombastic, outspoken, insubordinate yet somehow still admirable general.

At first, Goujun hadn't thought much of it. To him, Kenren Taishou was just another file, another name in his constantly-changing list of transfers from the Eastern Army. He'd even thought the man amicable, and his witty sarcasm was almost endearing.

It was only when he and Tenpou started their odd little relationship that Goujun began feeling different.

He was the only person other than Kenren and Tenpou themselves who knew of their affair, and that in itself had been a rather inadvertent discovery; he had called Tenpou into his office in order to ask him his opinion on a possible transfer of Kenren to another marshal's division. Tenpou had taken a long drag on his cigarette, exhaled in a thin cloud of smoke, looked Goujun straight in the eye and said, "I'm afraid I can't allow it, sir, unless you're willing to lose two men. Wherever Kenren goes, I'm afraid I'm obliged to follow."

Goujun, after getting over his initial shock, had promptly denied the transfer request.

It had been okay at first; he'd see those two sneaking meaningful glances at each other during meetings and roll his eyes, or he'd walk by Tenpou's office with the intention of asking for yet another late report—only to keep right on walking when he heard the suspicious noises coming from behind the closed door. It was new, and more than a little annoying, but he didn't dwell on it too much. It wasn't his business anyway.

Until Tenpou nearly got himself killed.

He'd been reckless again, and had ended up sustaining a rather ugly chest wound that, despite Heaven's healing arts, would have him out of commission for at least a month. Kenren had been out on another assignment, so Goujun was the first to visit the wounded marshal.

The dragon king had never seen Tenpou looking as vulnerable as he did that day, pale and unmoving beneath the pristine white sheets. And as Goujun looked down at his friend, so small and fragile as he lay there, he found himself wanting nothing more than to take Tenpou in his arms, to spread his wings and encircle them both and keep his marshal safe and protected forever.

It was a revelation that took him completely by surprise, this want—this _need_—to shelter Tenpou, to keep the marshal all to his greedy dragon self. Goujun found himself caught completely off guard, staring blankly down at the man before him as he realized that yes, in fact, he was in love with Tenpou and that he would do anything to keep the marshal safe.

When Kenren finally burst into the room, breathless and unkempt after rushing straight there as soon as he heard the news, Goujun relinquished his seat by Tenpou's bedside without protest, too stunned by his newfound epiphany to even spare a word for the worried general as he stumbled blindly out of the room.

It had taken him the entire month of Tenpou's recovery, but he'd eventually come to terms with his feelings—after all, one of the advantages of being a dragon was levelheadedness in all things. So he loved Tenpou, and that was okay. He was envious of Kenren, and that was okay too. After all, Goujun reasoned as he watched Kenren gently guide Tenpou into his reading chair, fetching his favorite book and fussing over the fact that invalids shouldn't smoke, they were good for each other. Tenpou was the base that kept Kenren's wild floating spirit firmly anchored, and Kenren with his brashness and fiery passion was what kept Tenpou going from one day to the next. They deserved each other, and Goujun had no right to intervene in that. Besides, it was a dragon rule not to get intimately involved with a human anyway, and neither Goujun nor Tenpou needed further complications in their lives at the moment.

So Tenpou recovered, and Kenren fussed like the sake-loving, chain-smoking—and incredibly manly, as he would insist—mother hen that he was, and Goujun watched from afar and quietly loved. And life went on, and everything was okay.

Until Kenren, the bastard, went out a few months later and got himself killed.

The sakura trees were in full bloom when they brought his body back, bloody and broken. _We tried to help him,_ the soldiers said, their voices broken and desperate. _We tried to tell him it wouldn't work, but he just kept going. We couldn't stop him until it was too late…_

And Goujun just stared blankly at the lifeless corpse in front of him.

He had overseen the preparation of the body, and had submitted his report—as cold and indifferent as ever—to his superiors. He sent notices with his consolations to Konzen Douji, and to Kenren's former commanding officers in the Eastern Army, and to the general's other friends and fellow soldiers.

He didn't tell Tenpou. He figured the marshal would find out on his own without Goujun's help.

He didn't expect Tenpou to be at the funeral either. He wasn't.

In fact, no one saw anything of Tenpou Gensui for the next few days. Goujun ignored it at first, knowing the marshal needed the time alone, but when days gradually lengthened into weeks, he began to grow worried.

It was two weeks after Kenren's death that Goujun finally found himself standing outside the closed door of Tenpou's office. He had no idea what he was going to do or what he was going to say, but he was a dragon king and he'd be damned if he was going to back down now.

Taking a deep breath, Goujun grabbed the doorknob, turned it, and pulled the door open, instinctively bracing himself for the shower of books that was sure to tumble down onto his head—

Except it never came. Goujun blinked, staring in absolute amazement at the interior of the office, where books were sitting neatly on their shelves, the desk was clean, and the floor could actually be seen.

A small voice drew him out of his bewildered daze. "He always cleaned it for me," it said. "I figured now that he's not around, I need to start picking up after myself for a change."

Goujun turned, and there sat Tenpou Gensui, leaning back against an armchair. His labcoat was missing, his clothing rumpled, his glasses gone, his green eyes strangely blank and dead—and Goujun felt his heart break. "Tenpou—"

"Shh," the marshal whispered, tilting his head up to stare at the ceiling. "If you speak, I won't be able to hear him anymore." His long fingers twitched, holding an imaginary cigarette.

"What do you mean?" Goujun asked, whispering in turn as he approached Tenpou slowly, cautiously. The marshal had always been an unpredictable man, after all.

"He said so many things here," Tenpou answered. "And if I listen carefully enough, I can hear the echoes. It's all I have left of him."

For a long moment, Goujun couldn't think of what to say. Finally, he blurted out the only thing that came to mind. "Tenpou, I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," the marshal replied, voice ever so soft and polite. "It's not your fault." His green eyes were clouded.

Goujun just stood there, completely lost. He had never felt so utterly helpless before, and inside it made him seethe. It hurt him to see Tenpou like this; it hurt him in parts of his heart that he never even knew could feel pain, and at the moment he knew that if there had been a way to bring Kenren back, no matter how dangerous or heretical, Goujun would have done it. Anything to get the Tenpou he knew back, the Tenpou who smiled and smoked like a chimney and liked honey in his tea. This Tenpou, with his emotionless demeanor and detached words and lifeless eyes, scared Goujun like no demon lord ever could.

He didn't remember it happening, but before he knew it he was kneeling beside Tenpou, drawing the smaller man into a firm embrace. The marshal tried to jerk away at first, as if Goujun's touch was painful, but the dragon king merely held on, patiently waiting for the storm to break.

"Let go," Tenpou was saying, voice frantic, alarmed. "Let go—I can't hear him anymore—"

"Tenpou," Goujun answered, refusing to release his hold. "Tenpou."

"He's leaving," the marshal cried, breaths coming in sharp gasps. "He's leaving—his voice—help me, Goujun, don't make him go! Goujun, _please!_"

"Stop, Tenpou," Goujun said, surprised at the weariness in his voice. "Please, just stop."

And as the marshal's struggles faded and he finally dissolved into wracking sobs that tore at Goujun's heart, the dragon could only stroke his back and kiss his hair and make empty promises to an empty room. And as he watched Tenpou Gensui finally fall apart, Goujun felt his fury rising, fury at Kenren for being stupid enough to do this to someone who loved him so much. And he vowed right then and there, as he clutched a trembling Tenpou to his breast like a broken child, that if he ever got reincarnated in the world below, he was going to find that filthy bastard and give him a piece of his mind.

500 YEARS LATER

"Kyuu!"

"_Ow!_ Damnit, Hakkai, your stupid dragon is biting me again! Call the little fucker off, will ya!"

"I'm sorry, Gojyo. I don't know why Jeep seems to hold a grudge against you. Perhaps you upset him in a previous life?"

"Kyuu!"

END


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